


Jay Whump

by DarkerThanDisney (Kairyn)



Series: Son of Jafar [4]
Category: Descendants (Disney Movies)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Child Abuse, Gen, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, My First Work in This Fandom, Never Enough Comfort, One Shot, Underage Drinking, Unpunished Abusers, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-04-18 00:21:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14200845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kairyn/pseuds/DarkerThanDisney
Summary: Its always Carlos that seems to get the whumpage. I wanted to mix it up with Jay being the one getting it bad.





	Jay Whump

The only noise in the entire room was the sound of the aerosol trigger on the paint can being depressed. Mal tried to ignore the very uncomfortable feeling she had been getting for the past two hours but found it was getting harder and harder to do so. Glancing behind her she could see that Evie's doodles in her sketchbook were nonsense swirls and scribbles rather than actual dresses and Carlos was fiddling with some broken radio that had been found in an old barge a few weeks ago. He didn't look as if he was really doing anything with his fiddling but that wasn't surprising. Mal turned her eyes back to the mural she was doing and sprayed another dark line of purple across the wall. "Half an hour and we'll go find him," she announced.

There was an almost audible sigh of relief from the other two. Nobody had wanted to be the first to say it out loud but Jay being _this_ late was unusual. Normally, he wandered in ten or twenty -rarely thirty- minutes after he was supposed to be meeting them. Two hours late was so rare it meant only one thing really: Jay hadn't managed to steal the increasingly unrealistic amount that Jafar demanded him to get every day. Jay was the best thief on the Isle, but even he couldn't snatch what just _wasn't there_. And when Jafar didn't get his way one of two things happened; either he forced Jay to go out again and try and get more no matter how dangerous that was, or he beat his son to a bloody pulp with the very objects that Jay had brought home. Mal really hoped this was the former and not the latter.

Jay was good at getting out of sticky situations so going to try and find more trinkets wouldn't be so bad for him. But it broke all of them just a little more when they would have to try and patch Jay back together after a particularly brutal beating. He was usually so strong and confident and seemingly unbreakable that to actually see the strength stripped away affected all of them to their rotten cores.

Most of the Isle made assumptions about Mal and her Gang from their outward demeanor. Well, everyone made snap assumptions about everyone else, really. Those that seemed weak were picked off and only the strong -or those perceived as strong- survived. If you weren't strong, you had best find some way to surround yourself with those that were. Carlos was terrible at hiding how his mother's crazy affected him, but everyone also knew Carlos had the other three of their group for protection, so he was kept safe outside of his home, which he regularly just didn't return to. Cruella either barely noticed he was gone or forgot to be upset about it by the time he finally showed up again. Evie was next most obvious, but she had managed a certain haughtiness that kept her safe even when she was alone on the streets, which she rarely even was. Mal and Jay were the best at hiding their hurts and, of the two of them, Mal could safely say that she was the better treated. Her mother didn't beat her bloody. She didn't really have to. Maleficent could impose her will without physical violence. Without his magic, Jafar no longer could. 

Jay went to great pains to hide his injuries and appear untouched and strong, but he couldn't do that from the people patching him up with increasing frequency. Mal was honestly beginning to worry that things with Jafar were coming to the point of no return. Kids _did_ get killed on the Isle. At first, Mal had worried endlessly for Carlos because Cruella seemed so unstable. But for all her crazy, Cruella wasn't getting _worse_ with her abuse and Carlos had developed ways to placate or just avoid her. Jafar was spiraling, and the one person Jay seemed to struggle to stand against was his father. Now Mal's biggest worry was one day her second-in-command would be carried out of the junk shop in a box. Cardboard most likely, since Jafar never shelled out any money for Jay and wouldn't change that after killing him.

Twenty minutes after her announcement, Mal was tossing her paint can into a nearby box. Carlos' knee was bouncing, and Evie was glancing at the clock on the wall every other second. Screw the last ten minutes. They were leaving now. Before Mal could tell the others they were leaving, the sound of the door opening had her quickly moving. Evie and Carlos were right behind her. When they spotted Jay, Mal cursed and felt her eyes burn green. Evie gasped, and Carlos rushed forward to help the older boy who was holding his stomach and side and leaning heavily against the wall for support. His hair was a bloody mess in his face, and Mal did not at all like the way his other arm was propping up his left. There was a strange bump under his skin and Mal was willing to bet Jay's arm was broken. "Evie," Mal ordered even as she went to Jay's other side.

Evie vanished to get the medical supplies as Mal and Carlos helped the badly limping Jay into the hideout and over to a couch. He hissed in pain even as he laid down and Mal brushed his messy mane of hair out of his face. Jay's hat was missing, and his face looked as if it had been kicked several times. His left eye was swollen shut and blood was caked on his face from his nose and a deep cut on his lip. "M-mal," Jay croaked when he saw her above him.

"Shh. You're alright," Mal said as Evie came back with the sparse medical kit they had. "You're here now, Jay. You're safe." Carlos was over at the tap filling a bucket that really could be cleaner with water that also could run more clearly. But it was the best they had. There weren't really any _hospitals_ on the Isle.

Mal worked quickly to undo Jay's vest and push it out of the way. She scowled at the dark bruises littering her friend's chest and the old scars that she could recall patching up in the past. A particularly dark ring of bruises was coming in around Jay's neck that looked far too much like handprints for Mal's liking. There was also a new knife wound in Jay's side, but thankfully it didn't seem too deep. Just long and painful. Mal was going to murder Jafar.

Mal noticed something that made her pause in her inspection and glance at Evie crouched beside them. Luckily, the Princess was still rummaging in the first aid kit for the best supplies they had, and Carlos was dealing with the water. Mal's eyes flicked up to Jay's, and after a moment staring each other down, she saw the pain and tears there. Jay screwed his good eye shut tightly, and Mal moved as subtly as she could to refasten his pants that he'd only half managed to do. She wasn't going to murder Jafar, Mal decided. She was going to _slaughter_ the bastard.

But not right that second. Jay's condition was more pressing. Mal brushed his hair back again in an attempt to soothe him even as Carlos brought the water and the cleanest rags they had. Mal wasn't a match for Carlos and Evie's skills at patching people up so she moved to the end of the couch to continue to just comfort Jay as best she could. After the bucket of water, Carlos quickly brought him some bootlegged booze that was the best they had for painkillers. Jay had downed the whole bottle without hesitation before passing out. In a way it was good, as that meant he didn't flinch or hiss when Evie sewed the gash on his side closed and he didn't have that shattered look in his nonswollen eye that made Mal want to rip and tear and _incinerate_ something.

Mal sat with Jay's head in her lap and carefully cleaned the blood off his face. She'd had suspicions about Jay for a while, but she hadn't dared to voice them aloud to the other teen. Several times when Jay was desperate for money, and there was nothing around worth stealing, the teen would vanish for most of the day and return with hard cash rather than trinkets and entire wallets. Mal was positive he was doing something unpleasant to get the money to save himself a beating later. She hated that sometimes it didn't even seem to help. "This is too much," Evie said wiping her eyes carefully. "He's going to kill Jay one of these days."

"But what can we do?" Carlos asked as he broke apart a broom handle so that they could use it in a splint for Jay's arm. "Nobody is going to tell Jafar to stop..." he muttered.

The Isle was big on not getting involved in the private affairs of the main villains and that, unfortunately, included how they dealt with -i.e., abused- their children. "We'll make him stop," Mal said firmly.

"How?" Carlos asked. He knew first hand that nothing intimidated the villains of the Isle into treating others better. And they didn't care if the others were worse or better than themselves. 

"I'm not sure," Mal admitted begrudgingly. "But we will. Once Jay's better."

Mal had to help set Jay's broken arm, and she had never been so glad for bootlegged booze before that moment. The horrible _noise_ would haunt her dreams for a long while. Evie had started crying again but kept working on tending every little cut and bruise that their friend had suffered despite the way her mascara ran down her face. All in all, it took most of the night for them to patch up all of Jay's wounds and Mal hadn't dared mention that there might be _more_ wounds they just hadn't seen. Jay would kill her if she voiced her suspicions out loud. Even if it were only to Carlos and Evie.

They didn't go to their own homes that night and stayed at the hideout with Jay. Jay woke up the next morning complaining of a hangover and said absolutely nothing of his other injuries. Mal really hadn't expected otherwise, but it still maddened her further. Plots to kill Jafar and get Jay away from the lunatic were swirling in her head, but none were currently in the least bit realistic. Where would she get a bazooka on the Isle anyway?

It took effort on Mal's part to finally corner Jay, but she managed to do it several weeks after he was up and moving again. Like usual, Jay had found a roof that was mostly stable and was watching the chaos of the Isle down below. Probably picking out easy marks even if he wasn't yet in any condition to go after the money. "You're going to tell me," she said firmly. Jay frowned and looked confused, but Mal didn't buy that. Jay was a brilliant actor. "Everything, Jay."

"There's nothing to tell, Mal," Jay said as he leaned back against a half crumbled chimney that had been patched with dented old street signs.

Mal sat down beside her friend slowly. "There's always something to tell," she said. "Mom threw all my stuff into the ocean again." Luckily all the things Mal actually liked were at the hideout for just such a reason. "Not that I think that's close to whatever Jafar's doing but come on... give me something."

They were quiet for several minutes before Jay sighed. "It's not anything I want to talk about, Mal."

"No, I get that," Mal said before leaning closer, "but you are going to tell me why I had to close your pants the other day."

Jay flinched and looked far away from Mal. "Jabir-"

"Don't call me that," Jay snapped instantly.

"Then tell me what happened," Mal insisted.

There was a very awkward silence, and Mal was beginning to lose her temper. This was not something she was going to let go. Finally, Jay sighed, "It's not like he's attracted to me or anything fucked up."

"That doesn't make it better!" Mal had to try hard to not screech. Judging by Jay's flinch, she isn't sure she succeeded. Mal took a deep breath to try and calm down just a fraction. "What. Is. He. Doing?"

"I... I guess he somehow found out how I get extra money," Jay muttered, hiding his face behind the curtain of his hair. Mal wanted to shake her friend but barely resisted. She knew what it was like to do something unpleasant to hopefully make her parent not so horrible for just a minute. She just hadn't thought Jay of all people would resort to something like _that_ , but she wasn't going to judge him for it.

"He said... I'm just like my mother," Jay muttered, still not looking up. "A disgraceful whore and if that's what I wanted..."

Mal let out the breath she didn't realize she was holding as a hiss. It was Jafar's own fault that Jay had resorted to getting money any way that he could and then he turned around and called him something so horrible... He was lucky that Mal hadn't thought of a foolproof murder scheme yet. Mal studied her friend carefully. Jay's head was bowed and his arms, one of which was still carefully splinted, were resting on his raised knees. Mal had rarely seen the thief so broken down, and she hated it, but he still hadn't fully answered what had happened. "Jay... tell me straight. Did he rape you?"

Jay stiffened, and Mal thought that was answer enough, but she waited anyway. "... there was this old bottle on the counter," Jay murmured. Mal almost couldn't even hear him. "He used that..."

Mal felt her eyes burning and got to her feet. Screw a plan. She was going to go kill the villain with her bare hands. He would be lucky to die quickly. Mal felt a hand grab her wrist and looked down. Jay hadn't looked up but had caught her before she had even taken a step. Mal was about to argue but thought better of it.

Instead, Mal sat back down beside her friend and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. They sat there in silence for a long time. Mal made no mention of the shudders and gasps that Jay was making. He was perhaps the most silent crier that Mal had ever met and for some reason that hurt almost as much as knowing he was crying in the first place.

For almost two months Jay was recovering. Most of the latter time was due to his arm, but he still didn't dare go home because it's a lot harder to steal without the use of both arms and if he went back to the shop he'd have to earn his keep. Mal's determination to kill Jafar hadn't faded in the least, but unfortunately, her plans weren't becoming fruitful either. 

And then, only a few days after the splint comes off, Jay spots an old oil lamp in the trash and realizes that might appease his father again. Mal tries to talk sense into him but then gets somewhat distracted by her mother telling them they were going to Auradon of all places and while they were there, she wanted them to steal the Fairy Godmother's wand. At least it gets all of them away from their despicable parents for a bit. She was still going to kill Jafar when they finished this no matter if Jay liked it or not. He deserved the most painful death Mal could come up with. Maybe she could find that bazooka she wanted while they were off the Isle. And the flamethrower she always wanted to take to Cruella's precious closet and then Cruella herself. Yeah, she could definitely turn this trip to her advantage.


End file.
